Musings in the Sky
by Rhapsody the Bard
Summary: This is my collection of Silmarillion ficlets and vignettes under 500 words. These small stories are written as a present or written for a challenge. The length of the ficlets will vary from 100 up to 500 words. Contains MEFA & Mithril Award winners.
1. On the Shores of Redemption

Author's foreword:

Musings in the sky is a ficlet anthology and encompasses all the drabbles & other forms of ficlets under the 500 words that I have written for challenges, birthday gifts, special requests or just when I felt like it.

Summary: Arda's mightiest singer reflects on his life.  
Author notes: Inspired by the OSA Drabble Challenge #8: City of Many Names, but I was too late to submit. Try to use all of the Names of Doriath, or Minas Tirith, or Gondolin or Moria or whatever place with more than 2 names in a drabble.  
Rating: PG

On the shores of Redemption

I have seen many places in my life: an oath foresworn on the steps of Tuna, killed many in Alqualondë, Doriath and other places I will not name. Maybe it was for the best we never beheld Gondolin, neither was it our doing that Minas Tirith fell.

Now, that I wander these shores, I hear others singing praise of Moria's stone halls, but my eyes are bound to the West. Only the city of Dol Amroth enraptures my heart, her I love most. For I am Maglor the forgotten, bound to the sea and singing laments of deep regret forever.


	2. Enchantment

Summary: Lúthien Tinúviel just dances on the glades of Esgalduin...  
Rating: G  
Author notes: Written for OSA Drabble Challenge #10: Creativity

Enchantment

On the glades of Esgalduin, she danced, sang, and wove her enchantment of life that spring would bring. 'Come forth my beloved, yield to the beauty of this day, and herald the new season.' On and on she whirled, her feet touched the ground lightly as if Manwë carried her. Stretching her arms, she beckoned nature to follow her call: enamouring the Niphredil to open and the Elanor to shine brightly amongst the others. Lúthien Tinúviel continued to enchant the flowers, but unknown to her; she captured the heart of a mortal man as well, beyond the span of Time.


	3. Strings

Summary: Maglor tries to neglect Caranthir's words.  
Rating: G  
Author notes: Written for the OSA Drabble Challenge # 12 "Music"

Strings

Music: the balm for suffering. It is better then to hear the harsh words spoken by my brother who heatedly urges us all to pursue them. Maedhros tries to calm him down, but I cannot bear to hear this malice. My companion sooths my soul with beauty.

But then, in seconds, she is ripped away from me and her snares cringe in protest. Instead, I sense the blade nearby.

'The Oath cannot use dreamers, Maglor. Are you with us, or against us?' Caranthir's eyes show me greed, but I swore the same Oath. _Always together. I have not forgotten Father_.


	4. Illuminated promise

Summary: Maglor and the Silmaril's: his first encounter  
Rating: G  
Author Notes: Written for OSA Drabble Challenge #13: Seeing Something New

Illuminated promise

Here I stand, in a dark room in Tirion, holding something that is so pure and resplendent. It speaks to my heart with beauty and promise. 'It is now your turn my son to see something I created.' Up until now, I had no idea what he meant with that. I do not hear his voice to put them back, I simply cannot. They sing to me, enchant me, and encourage me to go beyond the boundaries set upon me. His hands forces me to let go, I never encountered him this angry. Silently I vow: 'I will protect you.'


	5. A grim fate

Summary: Maglor relents his ancestry and past.  
Rating: G  
Author Notes: Written for the OSA drabble challenge " Characteristic Phrases"

A grim fate

Elf-like features. How much I curse them now. Once there was a time that I felt proud to be one of my fathers sons, but now I deeply wish not to be alike them. I know I only have to gaze down in the pool of water that repletes this bay. Nay, I do not wish to be remembered of what once was and never can be restored. Nothingness: my grim fate. I cannot walk amongst my kin, for these elf-like features are my curse. Therefore, I wander these shores alone, embracing the grievous everlasting darkness that occupies my soul.


	6. Swan Song

Summary: An unnamed character witnesses the kinslaying of Alqualondë from nearby. There is a tiny bit of Maglor in it.  
Rating: G  
Author Notes: Written for the OSA Drabble Challenge #20: Minor Character. Minor, minor character, maybe even unnamed character.

Swan Song

I hear my kin crying from outrage, the boots on my deck dance around others. There is blood, pain, wounds, and so many deaths. Then there is silence, shortly followed by commands barked. My brother bolts and screams his protest against such harsh treatment.

'We are taking this one.' A gentle voice says. His movements are calm, but I can feel how he shakes when he sits down for a moment. 'I am so sorry.' I hear the regret in his voice and I give in to his demand to set sail and do what others cannot: leaving Alqualondë behind.


	7. Torn Asunder

Summary: What were Mithrellas thoughts on the eve when she left her family behind on Middle Earth?  
Rating: G  
Author Notes: Written for OSA drabble Challenge #21: Double Drabble. Themes chosen: Regret (challenge nr 1) and Minor Character(challenge nr 20). The Drabble is loosely based on information coming from The Peoples of Middle Earth (The Heirs of Elendil, the line of Dol Amroth) and From the article Lonely Wanderers and the Tales That Almost Were by Michael Martinez.

Torn Asunder

So, this was it. After so many pleas, they still did not listen. But my choice tears me apart. Leaving my own blood, or joining my kin overseas? I feel the pull, but what about Galador and Gilmith? How will they react to my leaving?

My love, he understands, even so, it was his idea that I should leave. He reasoned that it would be cruel for me to watch them die, and I know that is my greatest fear after loosing my mistress. Because who could heal my heart after they would wither and pass away? The burden of grief would be too hard to shoulder for generations to come.

My true love is here, fast asleep, but my calling is overseas. We both know that this is tearing my heart apart. He murmurs soft words, words I heard so often lulled in my ear. I drink in the very sight of him and turn around. On my way out, I stop to see my children sleeping, so young compared to my age. I know if I do touch them, I will never leave. Steeling my will and back I step into the empty night to sail to Valinor.


	8. The Promised Land

Summary: Isildur and Anárion standing on the bow, hoping what good will come after the destruction of Númenor.  
Rating: G  
Author Notes: Written for the drabble challenge #22 "Hope"

The Promised Land

The water seemed calm and gently lapped against the bow that cleaved through the waves with a fortunate speed. Isildur's emotions were completely the opposite compared to the world around him, a maelstrom of emotions raged inside him. He tried to phantom what happened the past days, spending many hours standing on the fantail, hoping that more ships survived the destructive storm, which destroyed Númenor.

His eyes scanned the water when a sailor yelled the word "land", but saw nothing yet. 'There lays our hope,' Anárion spoke and joined him, 'this is a new start brother, for all of us.'

----

Terminology used:  
Bow: the front of the ship  
Fantail: the back deck of the ship  
Phantom is used deliberately here, it is a synonym noun for figment of the imagination (fiction of the mind)


	9. United we wait

Summary: Maglor's observation before they ride to war in the Nirnaeth Arnoediad (Battle of Unnumbered Tears).  
Rating: G  
Author Notes: Written for the OSA Drabble Challenge #24: The Silence Before the Storm. Regarding Maglor's helm and red plume:

_"And Fëanor made a secret forge, of which not even Melkor was aware; and there he tempered fell swords for himself and for his sons, and made tall helms with plumes of red. Bitterly did Mahtan rue the day when he taught to the husband of Nerdanel all the lore of metalwork that he had learned of Aulë."_  
(The Silmalrillion, Chapter 7, Of the Silmarils and the Unrest of the Noldor)

United we wait

It is Midsummer Day, the day my brother and Fingon agreed upon to attack our enemy. I just want to wait a little longer before I fasten my helm and join my men. The wind plays with the red plume of my helm, small dust clouds sweep over the plains of Anfauglith. I watch how Celegorm and Curufin gather their men, Amrod and Amrad theirs. Caranthir joins me and together we await the signal coming from Fingon. My eyes fall on Uldor, who is behaving suspiciously. Then our banner rises, Maedhros follows suit. The beacon remains unlit: the enemy approaches.


	10. A Mariner's heart

Summary: Eärendil faces his first and big love...  
Rating: G  
Author Notes: Written for OSA Drabble Challenge #27: First love

For Robinka.

A Mariner's heart

The first thought that came to him was the mysterious greyness that met his eyes instantly. This vista presented from this cliff seemed to call out to him. Eärendil knew better by now that things happened for a reason and he drank in the very sight of Her. The thought of exploring Her, making Her his own, made him wanting to best Her to his will. A thrill surged through him when he tasted the brackish mist on his lips: the yearning grew. Then he realised that he lost his heart to Her smooth expanse and The Mariner was born.


	11. First Blood Spilled

Summary:Fëanor races home to Formenos after the news of his father's death. What goes through him when he arrives on the scene?  
Rating: G  
Author Notes: Written for the OSA Drabble challenge #29: First loss  
Warnings [character death

First Blood Spilled

It had been his first. Nienna explained to him the meaning of Death a while ago when he sought council in bitterness. But this was different. Looking down on the lifeless body of his father, Fëanor fought down his anger and pain that tore him apart. The Valar had held him captive in their councils, displaying their greed, lusting for the jewels themselves. Talk, but no deeds. Kneeling down, he gathered the broken body in his arms. The fire flared up inside him and soon, soon it consumed his spirit. Repeating the words once more, he cried hoarsely: "Curse him!"

Inspiration came from:

The Silmarillion, Chapter 9: Of the Flight of the Noldor

_For they told how a blind Darkness came northward, and in the midst walked some power for which there was no name, and the Darkness issued from it. But Melkor also was there, and he came to the house of Fëanor, and there he slew Finwë King of the Noldor before his doors, and spilled the first blood in the Blessed Realm; for Finwë alone had not fled from the horror of the Dark. And they told that Melkor had broken the stronghold of Formenos, and taken all the Jewels of the Noldor that were hoarded in that place; and the Silmarils were gone._

_Then Fëanor rose, and lifting up his hand before Manwë he cursed Melkor, naming him Morgoth, the Black Foe of the World; and by that name only was he known to the Eldar ever after. And he cursed also the summons of Manwë and the hour in which he came to Taniquetil, thinking in the madness of his rage and grief that had he been at Formenos his strength would have availed more than to be slain also, as Melkor had purposed. Then Fëanor ran from the Ring of Doom, and fled into the night; for his father was dearer to him than the Light of Valinor or the peerless works of his hands; and who among sons, of Elves or of Men, have held their fathers of greater worth?_


	12. True Diplomacy

Summary: Maedhros has passed on rulership of the Noldor to Fingolfin. This drabble relfects Celegorm's thoughts.  
Rating: G  
Author Notes: Written for the OSA Drabble Challenge #30: Addiction (but not to the ring)

True Diplomacy

My brother calls it diplomacy, but I am the true master of it. This was not what father intended! There is an oath to be lived up to, a legacy to be cherished! I know I have to accept this. But being so close to this desire, so close to that power when all thought Maedhros gone. But then there is Maglor; he knows my intentions too well.

None of my brothers know what true diplomacy means. None of my brothers can ever understand how it feels to have subjects yield to your wisdom and knowledge. Little they know… yet.

Author's afterword:

This drabble refers to this part from the Silmarillion, Chapter 13, Of the Return of the Noldor:

_For Maedhros begged forgiveness for the desertion in Araman; and he waived his claim to kingship over all the Noldor, saying to Fingolfin: 'If there lay no grievance between us, lord, still the kingship would rightly come to you, the eldest here of the house of Finwë, and not the least wise.' But to this his brothers did not all in their hearts agree._

_Therefore even as Mandos foretold the House of Fëanor were called the Dispossessed, because the over-lordship passed from it, the elder, to the house of Fingolfin, both in Elendë and in Beleriand, and because also of the loss of the Silmarils._

This is also an belated answer to the Silmarillion Writers Guild challenge:

Maglor: Why didn't you rescue Maedhros; why did the poor chap have to wait for cousin Fingon to go get him?


	13. A Mother's Wish

Summary: Nerdanel cannot longer withstand a lament.  
Rating: G  
Author Notes: Written for the OSA Drabble Challenge #32: Left Behind. MEFA 2007 Nominee.

A Mother's Wish

There it was again, the lament carried on the wind, coming from overseas and determined to reach her. Of all that she bequeathed him, this was something he developed on his own. Over the years, his voice mirrored his mood. But she knew him, her very own Makalaurë, left behind on the shores on the other side of Arda. This time, she could no longer withstand it. Climbing out of her bed, and descending the stairs quickly, she ran to the sea facing east. Ignoring the cold water that surrounded her legs, Nerdanel started to sing her wish to him.

**Author's afterwords:**

Makalaurë: Maglor's mother name, gifted by Nerdanel

Source: History of Middle Earth book twelve: Peoples of Middle Earth, Late writings, XI. The Shibboleth of Feanor.

_About Maglor's singing skills:_

_The seven sons of Fëanor were […; Maglor the mighty singer, whose voice was heard far over land and sea…_  
Source: the Silmarillion: Chapter Five – Of Eldamar and the Princes of the Eldalië

_Maglor's fate:_

And it is told of Maglor that he could not endure the pain with which the Silmaril tormented him; and he cast it at last into the Sea, and thereafter he wandered ever upon the shores, singing in pain and regret beside the waves. For Maglor was mighty among the singers of old, named only after Daeron of Doriath; but he came never back among the people of the Elves. And thus it came to pass that the Silmarils found their long homes: one in the airs of heaven, and one in the fires of the heart of the world, and one in the deep waters.  
Source: the Silmarillion: Chapter Twenty-Foure – Of the Voyage of Eärendil and the War of Wrath

_About Nerdanel's refusal to go with Fëanor:_

_Later, as Fëanor became more and more fell and violent, and rebelled against the Valar, Nerdanel, after long endeavouring to change his mood, became estranged. (Her kin were devoted to Aule, who counselled her father to take no part in the rebellion. 'It will in the end only lead Fëanor and all your children to death.') She retired to her father's house; but when it became clear that Fëanor and his sons would leave Valinor for ever, she came to him before the host started on its northward march, and begged that Fëanor should leave her the two youngest, the twins, or one at least of them. He replied: 'Were you a true wife, as you had been till cozened by Aule, you would keep all of them, for you would come with us. If you desert me, you desert also all of our children. For they are determined to go with their father.' Then Nerdanel was angry and she answered: 'You will not keep all of them. One at least will never set foot on Middle-earth.' 'Take your evil omens to the Valar who will delight in them,' said Fëanor. 'I defy them'. So they parted._  
Source: History of Middle Earth book twelve: Peoples of Middle Earth, Late writings, XI. The Shibboleth of Fëanor.


	14. A Bard's fate

Summary: Maglor watches how Daeron leaves for Valinor.  
Rating: PG  
Author notes: Written for the Open Scrolls Archive Drabble Challenge #38 Common Ground.

A Bard's fate

Mightiest singer of all. Right. And on what are they basing that? What reach does the voice of this Sindar minstrel have? Can he reach out over lands and sea? Can he keep his tone steady, firm, and encouraging when singing to strengthen your men during battle? Did he ever touch arms at all? What might granted him to sing at the Valar's court? Suddenly, my heart shrinks and I remember. For a moment, I cannot breathe, think, or stand straight. The punishment and bereavement of all that I once held strikes true and leaves me both bitter and alone.


	15. Fighting for Hope

Summary: Amras considers his future and that of his House when he holds a newborn baby.  
Rating: G  
Beta: Trekqueen  
Author Introduction: This double drabble is written for Isil Elensar ánd for Seven in '07 project for the Silmarillion Writers Guild.

**Fighting for Hope**

It was simply amazing: a small child this delicate and complete. Amras tried to look up to the doting parents but could not break away his gaze from this little creature who slept contentedly in his arms, completely unaware of the rest of the world. Amras knew that long ago many gazed down on him in the same manner as they imparted words of wisdom despite the fact that he was the seventh son of Fëanor. Yet, he knew that his brother was new to this, the excitement in his voice followed by the realisation that he would be responsible for this baby's future.

What would await this little one? Would his fate be different than theirs? If they would restore the honour of this House, this small baby would have a blissful life. Their lives suddenly became so different after their grandfather was brutally murdered.

_We simply must_, Amras thought to himself once he handed the child to his brother. If we manage to achieve this, peace would return in their hearts and loves would be rekindled. Then all could start anew with regained energy and love. At least for this little one's future, he was willing to try.


	16. Vengeance's Folly

Summary: Celegorm observes his brother's when all lick their wounds after the Nirnaeth Arnoediad.  
Rating: PG  
Beta: Trekqueen  
Author Introduction: This double drabble is written for Seven in '07 project for the Silmarillion Writers Guild.

Vengeance's Folly

_Injustice is relatively easy to bear; it is justice that hurts._  
H.L. Mencken

Oh, how he hated this. The sling limited his movements, leaving him wondering if he ever could pull the bowstring taut after his arm would heal. How did it come to this: a wounded army scattered and humiliated as the unexpectedly trustworthy Naugrim held their rearguard. The sour defeat; the not knowing and fleeing, even though all knew there had been no other option.

Celegorm shifted uneasily and watched how his younger brothers huddled around the campfire bandaged and sore. None had spoken much once the sun sank, tired as they all were, but not as restless as he was.

"Thusly we wander as leaves before the wind," Maglor said once they released the men from duty, eager as they were to see what was left of their homes. Now here they sat, the seven mighty sons of Fëanor, once glorious scions of a mighty house passing through the green woods of the Laiquendi who refused to be lead. Something needed to be done. Maedhros' eyes glared at him once he rose to his feet, knowing that a warning should follow suit. None came.

"Will you even refuse to lead us, brother?" Celegorm whispered and knew his time had come.

Author Notes:

Maglor's line comes from The Silmarillion, Chapter 20 Of the Fifth Battle: Nirnaeth Arnoediad where professor Tolkien writes: _The realm of Fingon was no more; and the sons of Fëanor wandered as leaves before the wind._

This is the full quote:

_The realm of Fingon was no more; and the sons of Fëanor wandered as leaves before the wind. Their arms were scattered, and their league broken; and they took to a wild and woodland life beneath the feet of Ered Lindon, mingling with the Green-elves of Ossiriand, bereft of their power and glory of old._


	17. I alone shall lead you

Summary: Celegorm gathers his men to wage war on an army of Orcs.  
Rating: G  
Author Introduction: This was drabbled for the Word of the Day-drabble project at the SWG where we attempt at writing a drabble or other short fiction every day, based on the Word of the Day.

I alone shall lead you

"Bring the horses, we will pass the hills near Eithel Sirion and intercept them." I know they will regard me as a dissident opposing my father. Knowledge of our enemy is scarce under these starlit skies and I cannot ignore the voices of those birds that speak of evil approaching.

They must think I am mad in my adamant refusal to waste time on a discussion with Atar and will undoubtly see me as an instigator in this divided house. I rather leave now and face a rebuke in the morrow in order to rescue us from a sudden death.

----

_There the armies of Morgoth that had passed south into the Vale of Sirion and beleaguered Círdan in the Havens of the Falas came up to their aid, and were caught in their ruin. For Celegorm, Fëanor's son, having news of them, waylaid them with a part of the Elven-host, and coming down upon them out of the hills near Eithel Sirion drove them into the Fen of Serech._

From The Silmarillion: Chapter 13, The return of the Noldor

This scene has always intrigued me what Celegorm decide if the knowledge of this army would reach him. Why did he gather his own army to waylay and drive these Orcs into the Fen of Serech.

The word on the 27th of June 2007:

factious FAK-shuhs, adjective:

1. Given to faction; addicted to form parties and raise dissensions, in opposition to government or the common good; turbulent; seditious; prone to clamor against public measures or men; -- said of persons.

2. Pertaining to faction; proceeding from faction; indicating, or characterized by, faction; -- said of acts or expressions; as, factious quarrels.

Factious derives from Latin factiosus, from factio, a party, a group of people, especially a political party, faction, or side.


	18. Midwinter Thoughts

Summary: Maedhros muses on his purpose in life.  
Rating: G  
Story Notes: This vignette is written as a Christmas gift for Maedhros rising.  
Beta: Isil Elensar.

Midwinter Thoughts

My brother always used to sing about fair maidens finding true love without a doubt. This was when we were still living on Valinor. Now – if he sings – his songs are filled with battle and strife, meeting with new races as Dwarves or the Edain, or successful hunts where one of my brothers would bring home game and other wildlife.

Love. I often wondered why Maglor did not speak of his own love, but always of others, making it the most important tale to him and his crowd, who would be completely engrossed in it after mere seconds.

I remember the young maidens sitting around the many fountains in Tirion, claiming their sadness that a man would not look into her direction, or worse, dissecting flower petals one after another in a staccato rhythm saying: "He loves me, he loves me not. He loves me…"

If life was just that simple, I softly speak to no one beside me. The weather has been harsh this winter: the wind roars around my stronghold and many couples find each other in a passionate embrace, retreating to their own quarters. Midwinter is almost upon us and I know that next year we will be blessed with many children of Iluvatar.

Should I get a cluster of Mistletoe and pick off the berries, one by one, to determine if she indeed loves me? Or shall I try to see if I can commit my thoughts to paper, a gift which comes so natural to my brother. My other siblings are on their way to our midwinter fest, but I want to ask her before my fair brother, with his outspoken mind, claims her attention first. Or the more cunning one, who knows well of the joys of marriage. Or my younger twin brothers, too young to know the proper customs of Tirion's courts. Have I become just like my dark brother, who hardly speaks or feigns interest in matters outside his realm?

Maitimo is something I am no more, and I wonder if she will express concern if I ask her to become my consort, lest I should be too late. This winter set in early and maybe she did find someone else by now due to my lackadaisical attitude. Maybe I am doomed to remain alone. Maybe it is a song my brother refuses to sing for me.

What I am not is a wavering man, and I know that I have to seize my moment today. It is now or never. The quill and ink have to wait for another purpose, for I am no writer. A hunter, artisan, or warrior, but I do know that I was born to lead. Maybe, if Iluvatar is willing, I will lead my lady into the dance of life during the festival. I will tell her that she has my heart. I will ask her to become my love and I will speak of my desire to be her mate until the end of Arda.


	19. Oaths Foresworn

Summary: On the docks of the Mouth of Sirion, Maglor finds his brother Amrod injured. What transpired between them before Amrod passed away?

Rating: PG

Author Notes: Mithril Award 2005 finalist for: Best Best Vignette or Short Story & Best Silmarillion. MEFA 2006 winner of the 1st place for First Age and Prior.

Beta: Sophia Silfaery

Oaths Foresworn

In the aftermath of the kinslaying at the Mouth of Sirion, Maglor found his brother Amrod barely breathing and struggling for life. The chaos subsided and from the corner of his eye, he watched how Maedhros found Amras; their eyes met briefly and Maglor knew that Amras was no longer amongst them. Looking down at his little brother, he saw that his eyes were bound to something invisible. With a cry, Maglor cast aside his sword and fell down next to his injured brother.

'Pityo, hold on little one.' Maglor moved Amrod's arms from his belly and spied the fatal wound. For a brief moment, he shut his eyes and cursed the Oath they all took once more.

_I have buried too many._

Like a whisper, Maglor sang a lament, expressing his woes, putting all his weariness into those few words he could find for his brothers who fell today.

'Kano, you sing of sorrow for me. But what about my wife and my children? Who will look after them now that I am called by Namó?' Amrod's eyes lost focus; blood escaped his mouth.

_It would not be long now._

'We held true, did we not Kano? But was it all worth it? What world am I leaving my family? Who will look after them?' Amrod hung onto him, fighting for every single bit of life left in him.

'I promise you, Pityo. I will look after them.' The words almost choked him, how could he, Maglor, take on another Oath?

_This dreadful oath came at such cost and pain._

'Tell her…' His voice rasped, 'tell her that I will wait for her when her time comes. Tell her...' Now with every word spoken, more blood was lost. 'Tell her that she is my everything, tell her that I am a fool, and tell her that I love …'. The final words were left unspoken. Maglor howled and did not hold back his grief.

It was Maedhros who heard him swear: 'I promise you my brother, that as long as I walk these shores, I will look after them.'

'Maglor, we have to find the little ones.' Maedhros spoke painfully.

'Then let us perform at least one good deed today, before I commit myself to another lifelong oath.' He closed his brother's eyes and laid him down on the docks. The remaining brothers exchanged a look and said no more.

_Pityo a nickname created from Pityafinwë, Amrod's father name._

_Kano a nickname created from Kanafinwë, Maglor's father name._


	20. Shattered Twilight

Summary: Maeglin cannot let go of his muse during his final moments.  
Rating: PG-13  
Author Notes: This ficlet is written for Trekqueen who asked me to drabble Maeglin.

MEFA 2006 1st Place Races: Elves: First Age Elves

Shattered Twilight

The perfect image of her started to haunt my dreams once I realised that the lady my mother always so fondly spoke off in her memories, was as beautiful as Varda's stars. The first day I saw her and watched her graceful moves, I noticed the light in her eyes and became enchanted of her melodic voice ever since. My muse through words and tales, my passion once I was close to her. Her scent, her long silken hair, her soft hands that caressed my cheek on the day my father poisoned my mother.

Ah, how I wished for your lips to touch. And how I craved to taste your sweetness, to make you mine by the bond of marriage and love. And yet, that Adan stole you away from me. From me! The righteous heir of your father's throne. Have I not fought bitter battles on behalf of your father's Kingdom? Have I not always stood by his side with council? Haven't I been your champion? All these memories are engraved in my mind and even now, my beautiful Idril, you are the only thing I can think of while the wind cannot bear my weight and the cold air encompasses my body. Death will be imminent soon, my life is laid in ruin, and yet all I want is you.


	21. Looking Back, Looking Forward

Summary: The thoughts on friendship between Celegorm and Aredhel when both leave Valinor behind on their journey into exile.  
Rating: G  
Beta: Trekqueen  
Notes: written for the OSA Drabble Challenge #60: "Weather"

Looking Back, Looking Forward

The watery wind chilled him to the bone while the sea calmed down and snowflakes danced on the wind and in front of his eyes. Winter at sea, why did he never consider that before? Gone were the green forest and slopes of what was once his home. Would she return home or remember him? For a moment, Celegorm tried to imagine how Aredhel Ar-Feiniel would lift her silver-white robes off the muddy ground to leave the madness behind her.

And there he remained standing while the storm increased around him, blocking his view of the evanescing shores of Valinor.

* * *

Never before had she felt a wind this cold, and yet she marched on knowing that her people would draw strength from her courage. However, she could not believe what he had done. Friends since their childhood, her hunting friend now had an unfair advantage on her. Aredhel knew he would stay true to his heated words, that on the hither shores they would explore it together, like they did in the past years. The fell blizzard brought her back to the present and she drew comfort out of the knowledge wherever he might roam, she would feel home too.

---

Author notes: three quotes of inspiration formed the base of this small drabble series.

_"There she [Aredhel was often in the company of the sons of Fëanor, her kin; but to none was her heart's love given. Ar-Feiniel she was called, the White Lady of the Noldor, for she was pale though her hair was dark, and she was never arrayed but in silver and white."_  
The Silmarillion, Chapter five, Of Eldamar and the Princes of the Eldalië

_"But Aredhel had evidently told Curufin (and later Celegorm of whom she was most fond) enough of herself…"_  
History of Middle Earth, War of the Jewels, III Maeglin

_At that time they [Celegorm & Curufin were from home, riding with Caranthir east in Thargelion; but the people of Celegorm welcomed her and bade her stay among them with honour until their lord's return. There for a while she was content, and had great Joy in wandering free in the woodlands..._

The Silmarillion, Chapter sixteen, Of Maeglin


	22. Swan Dance

Summary: The thoughts of one of Feänor's sons during the 1st kinslaying in Alqualondë.  
Rating: PG  
Beta: Robinka  
Notes: Written for the OSA drabble challenge #58: Sin. MEFA 2006 1st Place: Times: First Age & Prior: Fixed-Length Ficlet

Swan Dance

My sword sings it own song as I follow through my motions as a graceful dance. Never before had I thought to use this weapon thusly as it cuts through the flesh of my so-called kin. Even though we are not bound by blood, it now mingles in an unforgivable manner for a cause of great importance. Us, the sons of Fëanor, now driven by our promise to stand by our father in this treacherous hour. Haughtiness may be their pardon; sadness strikes my heart to know that we will never extend our hand and skill in fond friendship again.

Author afterword and thanks:

Personally I can't say which Feänorian is speaking here. It might be Maedhros, or Maglor or Caranthir or Celegorm or... I leave it up to the reader to decide.

This drabble was inspired by the following citation coming from The letters of Tolkien: 131 To Milton Waldman

_The sons of Feanor take a terrible and blasphemous oath of enmity and vengeance against all or any, even of the gods, who dares to claim any part or right in the Silmarilli. They pervert the greater pan of their kindred, who rebel against the gods, and depart from paradise, and go to make hopeless war upon the Enemy. The first fruit of their fall is war in Paradise, the slaying of Elves by Elves, and this and their evil oath dogs all their later heroism, generating treacheries and undoing all victories._

Thank you all who reviewed and those who left such encouraging reviews during the MEFA 2006. I am deeply honoured with the two awards I received for this work: the 1st place in First Age and Prior, Fixed-length Ficlet and the author award for the 3rd place in First Age and Prior, Fixed-length Ficlet. Thank you reviewers: you are amazing.


	23. Perturbation of Fate

Summary: Maglor on the shores of Middle Earth while still remaining true to the Oath. This is another exploration of his reasons to linger on the shores while the jewel dwells in the ocean.  
Rating: G  
Beta: Trekqueen  
Notes: Written for the OSA drabble challenge #59 "Swimming". Thanks so much Trekqueen, for betareading this one! MEFA 2007 Nominee

Perturbation of Fate

The ever-changing tide refused to return what belonged to him. In his dreams, he heard it whisper: in his nightmares it lashed out to him repeatedly. Yet, the sea called to him, beckoning for surrender and to return home for his judgement. The Bard could not and remained where it once hit the waters, recalling exactly where it drifted shortly on the wild waves before it sank into Ossë's sheltering arms. This was his eternal vigil, Oath keeper to the end of Arda, remaining assured that none would delve into the dark expanse, daring to claim it as their own.


	24. Until fate reigns

Summary: Celegorm and Curufin share a typical brotherly moment.  
Rating: G  
Beta: Trekqueen  
Notes: Drabbled for the OSA Drabble Challenge nr 61: To Inspire and Amuse

Until fate reigns

"Turko, this is not funny."

"I am sorry, Kurvo, but I cannot help myself! 'Kurufinwë Fëanorion, I will not even consider this, even if you would gift your precious jewels to me!'" Celegorm mimicked the high-strung maiden who refused his brother's proposal earlier.

"Of course, only you would find amusement in _my_ misfortune. It may seem come to naught, but do not find inspiration in my proposal brother: destiny will claim her place in our lives!" Curufin bit back and urged his horse in a gallop, cutting his brother short, and rode away from the failure to win this heart.

--

Turko shortened canon nickname from Turkafinwë, Celegorm's fathername (HOME XII)  
Kurvo shortened canon nickname from Kurufinwë, Curufin's fathername (HOME XII)  
Fëanorion: Son of Fëanor


	25. Dancing Barefoot

Summary: Dior meets Nimloth.  
Rating: G  
Notes: A drabble present for Leaward.

Dancing Barefoot

She is the most beautiful creature I ever beheld. Her steps are light and she carries herself with grace.

_Lúthien Tinúviel._

But she is nothing like my mother. She is different: Her hair so dark, her skin so fair. It almost seems that this beautiful creature of the dusk, never has seen the sunlight.

_Like a white blossom: shying away from the sun._

Who am I? Dior, peredhel, born from a marriage of love and ultimate sacrifice. The jewel would become her. I know what I must do, proudly I move myself forward and speak her name: Nimloth of Doriath.


	26. Needling Pride

Summary: Maedhros in Mandos, how will he answer to Mandos' judgement?  
Rating: G  
Beta: Trekqueen  
Notes: This is a drabble written for the OSA Drabble Challenge # 63: "Guilty as charged".

Needling pride

A deafening silence enveloped him, tugging at his fëa to answer to the accusations just cast. Some fëar reacted furiously: their minds prickled him like small needles.

_Murderer! Slayer of my child!_

What about our dreams? What about our sacrifices, the loved ones we lost so that _your_ child could sleep safely in the homes we defended with our blood?

"Nelyafinwë, what do you have to say in defence for these cruelties in threefold?"

Is that all I have to face judgement for? Maedhros wondered.

"I have not, for our actions tell our tale." The audacious pride reigned once again.

--

Nelyafinwë Maedhros' father name


	27. The Essence of Fire

Summary: Curufin's thoughts at Losgar.  
Rating: PG  
Beta: Trekqueen  
Notes: Drabbled for the OSA Drabble Challenge #77: Inner monologue

The Essence of Fire

Ah the pure essence of fire: it kindles our hearts, fuels our desire, and forms the basis of my craft. Fire burnt through my body when I made love to my wife, the fire in our words marked our last goodbye. Fire lit the courtyard in the dark where father spoke words so true and proclaimed the Oath that we must fulfil. Fire is the source of creativity driving me to forge weapons so crafty, but also lends itself as the perfect weapon of destruction. Now the fire burns the white ships, which gives me closure and determines our path.


	28. Free Fall

Summary: Amrod has a blissful afternoon.  
Rating: G  
Note: Written for Isil Elensar, who wanted an Amrod drabble.

Free Fall

He balanced his son with perfection on his hands while he held him above him. His son crowed in delight and Amrod realised that this very moment only could be after years of fighting against the darkness in the North. It stung him that he could not share the delight of fatherhood with his brother Curufin who, in his turn, had shared his proud tales about his son with his brothers. He knew that his brother had done many things wrong: but still. He missed him dearly. Especially now that he had found peace with a family of his own.


End file.
